Brilliant New Light (Chance Lyon military adventure series Book 3)

by Van Torrey

  “Finally, a small freighter with no running lights will come along the port side at exactly nine o’clock to pick us up after we jump off the ship from the supply loading door on the port side of the ship. The life jackets will keep you afloat and the freighter will find you if you hold the green light sticks up above your heads. When all the men are aboard, the freighter will head as fast as possible to Honduras, where we will be safe and get our money.”

  Yim knew most everything he told the men about events after the explosions concerning their ultimate fate was a lie, but these were men who had been lied to many times before and believed regardless. For most of them, this would be the final lie they would hear in their miserable existence.

  *

  After a leisurely day at sea, soaking up perhaps too much sun, imbibing in a few too many rum drinks, punctuated by a backdrop of Caribbean steel drum music, most of the passengers on the Caribbean Star had retired to their staterooms to take a short nap and rally for another evening of uninhibited revelry on the floating palace.

  *

  The FBI chartered Citation landed in Miami and taxied to the Miami-Dade General Aviation Center where they were met by the veteran Miami FBI Special Agent in Charge, Matt Barrett. From there they went directly to the FBI Field Office in North Miami Beach to conference about the raw intel CIA had received from Gamma by way of Islamabad.

  Max Jenkins took the lead to begin the brief. “Gentlemen, CIA has received information from a reliable source that there may be a sleeper-cell of North Koreans living in or around Miami planning a terrorist strike on Americans. Believe it or not, that’s all we know.” Jenkins held back the information that the cell had supposedly been taken down to further protect Gamma as the source.

  The room fell silent for a moment before Matt Barrett responded. “That’s pretty thin, Mr. Jenkins. Doesn’t seem like justification for chartering a jet down here unless you guys are planning a wild weekend on the FBI’s tab.”

  “Right, Matt,” responded Jenkins, as he immediately lapsed into the familiar in a show of strength after letting Barrett’s jab sink in. “Actually this source is so sensitive that we didn’t want phone chatter and emails floating around about it. For all we know there are dozens of Edward Snowdens still at NSA just waiting for a juicy tid-bit like this so they can spill the beans to the highest bidder. If it’s a problem at the end of the month, the CIA will pick up the tab for the jet.”

  The men in the room were now an ad-hoc task force. For the next two hours they went over what little intel existed on shady Koreans living in the seedier sections of Miami and their known connections with the vast magnitude of misdemeanor and lower felony criminal activity that overwhelmed the various law enforcement departments in this eclectically diverse amalgam of human activity. Some Koreans had been fingered to the police by expatriate Cubans who suspected them of criminal activity, but there was not enough to go on to make arrests. There was so much minor criminal activity in Miami that much of the lower level crime simply went uninvestigated.

  There was one name, however, that usually came up to police when any mention of Koreans and criminal activity came up, and that was a “Mr. Yim”. He spoke good English and had acceptable papers in a city where the quality of identity papers was often joked about even in respectable circles. Yim could provide people to do many disagreeable jobs that even the lowly Haitian refugees would not do. He was a resource for those operating on the dark side of human endeavor and was paid well for his shadowy services.

  In the end it was decided that FBI agent, Jimmy Sok would be TDY to Miami FBI for thirty days. As an ethnic Korean Sok would blend into the community and would try to develop some actionable intel on Korean groups. He would act as the liaison between the FBI and the CIA on this glimmer of information. The ad-hoc task force, named “Pilgrim”, would continue to work the problem with CIA paying the bills for the moment. Any significant information would be handled in face-to-face meetings with Jimmy Sok or in writing via FedEx from a front company in Miami to another front company in Washington, D.C., so envelopes would not bear the address or name of FBI or CIA as sender or recipient. Even Federal Express was not totally trusted as a courier of sensitive documents.

  *

  The main dining room of the Caribbean Star was jammed with the eight o’clock dinner seating, and was a cacophony of clinking glasses and silverware, earnest human conversation, and much laughter, all to a backdrop of up-tempo dinner music being played by a small combo at the end of the dining room. Cruise passengers came to eat and drink, and tonight was the culmination of another day at sea to be joyfully celebrated.

  Anne and Grace had developed some tentative friendships since the cruise had begun. Grace’s outgoing personality had been the catalyst for bringing the group, including a Chicago doctor and his wife, a television producer for CNN and his male companion, and a honeymooning couple from Houston, together this evening for dinner. The diversity and varied educational backgrounds of the group was fuel for lively conversation.

  The TV producer was seated next to Grace and casually leaned over and spoke to her, “Grace, I could be mistaken, but I’m a news junkie working for news people in the news business. I could swear that your sister is the woman who was involved with President Jonathan Braxton over a year ago. Could this be true?”

  Grace paused with her salad fork in mid-air and looked slyly at the producer and said, “Simon, you know the saying “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?” Well, what happens on the Caribbean Star stays here. Yes, it is true, she is the woman! Now, you have to share a confidence with me...,” she began to say.

  At that moment, there was the sound of a dull thud from below and a sharp vibration rumbled through the dining room. Then a series of violent, earth-shattering explosions, accompanied by shouts and screams filled the great room. In seconds the main dining room of the Caribbean Star was a maelstrom of glass and dinner china shards, eating utensils, bloody human tissue, and the detritus of food and drink from the dinner tables at or near the explosive epicenters. Shortly the darkened room was enveloped by thick, acrid smoke and screams of agony from the wounded and dying.

  Although their table was not directly affected, Anne was thrown off her chair when the table was buffeted by the force of an adjacent table turning over next to it. In the ensuing darkness Anne tried to right herself but couldn’t rise as something heavy inhibited her movements. As she tried pushing the object away, she heard a gurgling sound and coughing, then nothing. Realizing the object must be a human being, she ceased her efforts to push it away and tried looking through the darkness to identify who it was and render aid. As her hands probed, she experienced a sensation of warm, wet fluid flooding down her arm from above and slowly covering her front. As she pulled her hand away in horror the body slumped away from her and rolled like a rag doll to the floor.

  Gradually the explosive echoes gave way to a sudden quietness interspersed with groans from injured humans, and men and women shouting through the darkness for help, calling out the name of a loved one. Anne too, shouted out the name of her sister, Grace, but there was no response from the carnage around her. For just the second time in her life, Anne Lyon felt alone and afraid.

  CHAPTER 21

  AFTERMATH

  “My adversaries...applied the one means that wins the easiest victory over reason: terror and force.”

  Adolf Hitler (Mein Kampf)

  *

  Luis Estevez was a seasoned ship’s captain highly valued by Cartagena Cruise Lines for his safety record as a twenty-year Master Captain. In addition, his management of ship’s personnel as the forceful leader of the Caribbean Star’s service and operations staff was another reason Cartagena had an enviable record in the cruise industry for return customers. Tonight, all his skills would be tested to the fullest.

  The combination of numerous explosions in two critical areas of the ship had resulted in an unknown number of serious injuries and, perhaps, deaths, among the passengers
and service crew. The emergency lighting on the bridge was enough to illuminate instruments that showed the ship was also rapidly losing way. Finally, the entire ship had been plunged into near total darkness. Only the battery powered battle lanterns interspersed throughout the ship provided minimal lighting for the passengers and crew who were rapidly being mustered to render aid in the main dining room.

  Captain Estevez assessed the dire situation from the bridge and quickly prioritized his actions. He immediately dispatched his Second Officer and First Mate to the dining room to assess the situation there. His Engineering Officer was in contact with the Captain by two-way radio and was slowly making his way to the engine room to determine what was causing the darkness and loss of propulsion. Estevez resisted the temptation to immediately go to the dining room. He instead went to the communications locker on the bridge and retrieved the satellite telephone to place a call to Cartagena Cruise Lines Operations Center in Cartagena, Colombia.

  Estevez was quickly connected to the duty officer and described what he knew of his ship’s situation at this early stage. “Please dispatch all medical and engineering help you can muster immediately. I do not believe we are in danger of foundering, and I do not believe abandoning ship is appropriate at this point. My priorities are to render aid to the injured, restore ship’s power, and resume operations on the ship in that order. I will report further when I know more.”

  *

  The U.S. National Security Agency’s monitoring of global communications from nearly every source was legion. When Edward Snowden, a NSA contractor, leaked to the world that such activity had been going on for years, the U.S. President at the time had basically rubbed that fact in the face of the rest of the world and told them to accept this as day-to-day routine business, engaged in by friends and foes alike, and “...to get over it.”

  Certain key words or phrases such as “abandon ship”, “render aid”, or “explosions”, automatically flagged a computer-monitored communication out of the routine and divert it onto a NSA internal “hot list” to be looked at by an analyst who can queue up the entire radio or telephone conversation to get further context. NSA, being purely a communications monitoring activity, had no authority or assets to affect action. If such monitoring did reveal “communications of interest”, such non-routine communications were at once diverted to the appropriate agency for analysis, which in this case was the CIA. Given the amount of drug and human trafficking that existed in the region, any out of the ordinary maritime activity in the Caribbean area was subject to intense scrutiny by U.S. Military or law enforcement.

  Within one hour after the explosions on the Caribbean Star, NSA had provided the CIA with all satellite telephone traffic to and from the ship. Together these transmissions painted a picture of explosions on the cruise liner that had taken many lives, injured many passengers and crew, and placed the ship itself in danger of mortal damage.

  Gradually the information made a story complete enough to wake DCI Marilyn Mitchell and the DNI, Raymond Rollins. The succinct message from the analysts at Langley was, “We have reliable information there was a suspicious explosion on a Colombian flagged cruise ship in the southern Caribbean. There are deaths and injuries. We are monitoring the satellite telephone and SSB radio traffic between the ship and its op center in Cartagena. A preliminary search of the passenger manifest indicates there are many Americans aboard.”

  Rollins immediately informed President Hunter’s Chief of Staff, Philip Johnson, who immediately called the President. “Ms. President, sorry to interrupt, but we have a security situation in the Caribbean. A cruise ship has suffered a possible terrorist attack, and Americans have been injured, perhaps killed.”

  “Thank you, Philip. Try to find out more. I’ll see you and Ray Rollins in the Oval Office in 30 minutes. Better get the SECDEF and SECSTATE spun up as well.”

  *

  Intelligence kept trickling in to CIA via the NSA gleaned from transmissions between the ship and Cartagena Cruise Lines. One of the American passengers also had a satellite phone and had begun talking to a relative in Philadelphia. The relative informed Fox News in New York, which immediately informed the CIA. This source was now being picked up by NSA, giving them a second set of eyes on the situation on Caribbean Star. However, the passenger’s link was viewed as tenuous as it depended on the condition of the phone battery.

  American satellite technology determined the Caribbean Star was indeed dead in the water. It was critical medical help get to the boat as quickly as possible. The United States’ relations with Colombia were not particularly good at the moment due to the ongoing dispute over drug trafficking out of that country. Any cooperation had to be initiated at a very high level, meaning President Hunter speaking directly with Colombia’s President, Alphonso de la Carbone.

  Twenty minutes was lost establishing the telephone connection between the White House Oval Office and the residence of President Carbone, increasing the frustration within the Oval Office group.

  Rachel Hunter started the conversation as soon as the connection was made. “President Carbone, this is President Hunter. Good evening. We have received news that one of your cruise ships has suffered a series of explosions while transiting between Jamaica and Belize. What can you tell us about the condition of the passengers, crew, and the ship?”

  “Yes, this is true, Madam President,” Carbone answered. “We have the situation completely under control and are sending assistance via helicopters from our navy and support vessels from Cartagena.”

  Rachel Hunter suspected this was a lie and an attempt on the part of Carbone to deflect her interest as she struggled to hide her frustration. “What can you tell us about the condition of the Americans on board? We have a vested interest in this event as it occurred in our hemisphere and involves American citizens.”

  “Pardon, Madam. Until I can get more detailed information, I’m afraid this is all I can tell you. Perhaps I can call you in a few hours with an update.”

  “President Carbone, I’m afraid that is not acceptable. The fact there are many Americans on board and some of them may be in grave danger makes this our business as well. I am asking you to allow us to help with the logistics of getting medical aid to the ship and assistance in investigating this incident. I want your permission to send U.S. military medical personnel and FBI personnel to the ship to assist immediately.”

  After a short pause, Carbone answered ambiguously. “Please wait for my reply, Madam,” and the line went silent.

  Since the call was on the speaker in the Oval Office everyone could hear both sides of the conversation and Philip Johnson spoke up. “We’re getting the brush-off from this guy, Ms. President. I suggest getting some wheels in motion to be pro-active in case he tries to delay you.”

  “Absolutely, Phil. I’ll give him another minute, and then I’m ringing off.”

  The Secretary of State was in the air but had been patched in to the conversation.

  “Secretary Randolph,” Hunter said, “please contact the Colombian Ambassador and get him standing tall over here ASAP. I want to see him personally.” She then asked her SECDEF, Justin Roberts, to inventory U.S. Navy and Coast Guard assets in that part of the Caribbean and put Guantanamo on alert with all their medical assets.

  Just then Alphonse de la Carbone came back on the line and addressed Rachel Hunter. “Madam President, the Caribbean Star is in a remote location and we will not be able to get medical personnel there until at least midday tomorrow. The ship is disabled and cannot move in our direction. I will have to call you.”

  Rachel Hunter showed all the instincts and grit Jonathan Braxton had anticipated when he tapped her for his Vice-President, making a command decision. “President Carbone, please listen carefully. I must respectfully ask for your complete cooperation in this matter concerning the Americans in danger on your country’s merchant ship. I am sending American military assets to your ship whose sole purpose will be to rescue those Americans and anyone els
e on the ships who want to be rescued. It is extremely important that you do not make any moves either diplomatically or militarily to thwart this purely humanitarian rescue operation. If your military tries to interfere with this humanitarian rescue activity, they will be repulsed by force, and there will be more bloodshed. Do you understand?”

  “Madam President, I must protest this heavy-handed incursion into our sovereign territory. This will create an international incident which I will take up in the United Nations. You must not do this,” replied Carbone hastily.

  “Mr. President, your ambassador is on his way to my office as we speak. When he gets here I will play him a tape recording of this complete conversation and make him aware of my intentions, so there can be no misunderstanding. Once again, I stress that our actions are purely humanitarian. We have no designs on your property. You must completely understand this. If there is to be further communication about this matter that concerns us both, please feel free to contact Secretary of State Randolph, whom you know. He is a party to this conversation and knows about this terrible situation.” With that, Rachel Hunter rang off.

  Philip Johnson wanted to congratulate Rachel Hunter on her firm stand, but he knew it would be bad form to validate a command decision by a sitting President of the United States to his or her face. He simply smiled and nodded in approval. But, to Rachel Hunter, a smile from Philip Johnson in a matter of this import was right up there with a high-five from Michael Jordan.

  *

  Chance Lyon’s cell phone rang in the wee hours of the morning waking him from a troubled sleep like an exclamation point to a bad dream. At least I’m alive, he thought with dark reckoning.

  “Chance, sorry to wake you, if I did. This is Director Wheatley.” Wheatley at four AM meant trouble, Chance thought as he shook off the transition from a nightmare to reality.

  “Chance we have a situation on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. If you turn-on Fox News you’ll get approximately what we know. They have an exclusive by way of a passenger on board with a satellite phone. How soon can you and your buddy, Olyphant, get to Ellington Field/NASA in Houston? From there we’re going to get you in a couple of fast movers to an aircraft carrier in the Caribbean for subsequent helo transport to the stricken ship. Just get headed for Ellington Field, and I’ll brief you on the way on your sat phone. This is an open-ended job, a cost-plus contract. I can’t guarantee support after the initial phase in the Caribbean, but that’s why you roll the dice with me.”